


Cicadas

by yelling



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Drug Use, Honestly this is just here to keep things clean on my computer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-08-08 17:51:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7767439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yelling/pseuds/yelling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A mild spring had turned to an unbearably hot summer for the commonwealth, forcing acquaintances to talk about uncomfortable subjects in the shade.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cicadas

    Nasty had made it a habit to keep away from Sanctuary on the hot muggy days that the commonwealth was prone to in the early summer. No trees or breeze, and hot pavement made it nearly unbearable for almost anyone there who wanted to stay more than three feet from a fan, and didn't want to make it a plan to go around in the hot weather with a hundred pounds of gear on, either.  
Although only marginally less depressing than staying inside all day, she'd spent the last week or so relaxing in the woods and getting high. Not exactly glamorous or productive, but it was hard to do either in heat so oppressive bloatflies seem to melt under the sun.  
    The eighth day, she found her spot right in front of the clearing taken.  
    Field was easy to spot anywhere, but her unseasonably long purple dress that made her stand out against the dead grass. After stopping about a hundred yards away from her desired spot and leaning against a tree trunk, Nasty fished out one of the two containers of Jet she'd stashed in her pocket. Better here than there.   
    It tasted like cow shit, it always did, and as usual she only cared for a half a second less than it took for her to hold it in. Still, even while feeling like her mind was moving a mile a minute, her thoughts came back to the rancid taste in her mouth. She stood up and wandered around, the high tapering off quickly while she searched for the mutfruit bush that she swore was there last time. Finally, she found one with a single ripe mutfruit hanging low at about knee level.  
    "Afternoon, Samantha." Fuck. And of course she insisted on calling her that name.  
    "Don't- whatever. Do you need something?" She sounded far more annoyed than was necessary.  
    "I should ask you the same thing. You're the one who came over here."  
    "You're kinda in my spot." She gave the mutfruit one more firm tug before part of it burst under the pressure. She pulled her hand back and shook it before licking her thumb and forefinger clean.  
    "Oh, I'm so sorry, do you need me to..."  
    "No, no," Yes "I just..." She leaned over and saw that Field had apparently collected a decent pile of mutfruit. Nasty pointed to it. "Can I...?"  
    "Yes, of course." She took the top one and wiped the dust off on her dress while Nasty sat down next to her. "Here."  
Nasty muttered a "thanks" and bit into the fruit that was so ripe it was almost jelly.  
    "I've asked ghouls about life before the war, but no one really cares to talk about it for long, not even about benign things. I've read some books out of curiosity, but all the books talked about were the grassy knolls and extravagant houses and rich suitors. I doubt I can really picture the world as it was, but I can only assume summer was quite different from now."  
    "You assume right." Nasty was genuinely surprised for a moment. No one really tried to bother with prying pre-war answers out of her in the past months, even when it would have made things easier. It'd almost seemed like no one liked being nosy anymore, or gave a shit at least.  
    "What do you miss most about it?" Field tucked back a strand of her talc white hair. "Summer, at the very least."  
    "The noise, I guess." Nasty took another bite, buying her time to collect her thoughts. "Sure there's tons of yelling and shouting whenever raiders decide to camp out nearby, but that's different. It was... a combination of things. Cars goin' by and sometimes a motorcycle. Even without those there was always some sort of bug humming. Mostly crickets, though. "The loudest ones were always the cicadas. They were this big- well, not really big by what's big now- but these bugs about the size of your pinkie that stayed in the ground for a year or so. Then they'd scream and fuck for around a month or two and then die. Mom said there were some types that stayed hidden for over a decade, but I never really heard any difference between 'em."  
    "Hm."  
    "Do you, uh, miss anything about Far Harbor or..." She was reaching for the name of the island itself but couldn't quite remember if it had a name beyond the strange and seemingly monolithic name of "The Island." It was probably on a brochure she'd flipped through too fast.  
    "Everything."   
    "Even the hermit crabs?" She tried to joke but Field stayed as serious as ever. She was starting to remember why she'd pointed her in the direction of the glowing sea the second they hit land a little clearer.  
    "Just as I can assume you miss the minor inconveniences as well as the friends and lovers you had back before, I miss all of the island. It is true, you don't know how much you loved a piece of the road until it becomes a pothole and all that."  
    "You're happy here, though, right? I mean it's no New York high rise but-"  
    "Can I be? Is happiness anything but a feeling you only recognize in retrospect?"  
    "I'm a little under qualified for a philosophy class here, Plato, so-"  
    "You're not happy here either."  
    "I am. I mean right now I'm a little pissed off now,-"  
    "Would you really truly consider yourself, at this moment, to be happy?" Nasty glared at her, but Field didn't waver. She returned here gaze, intense as ever. "Have you ever spent a moment of your life doing anything but chasing this abstract moment of happiness? I can only assume it's why you toyed with John for so long."   
    Nasty grabbed her by the collar of her dress hard enough to tear at the seam. "You shut your goddamn mouth."  
    "And why when he couldn't make you happy enough, you disappeared and spent a week at the Third Rail, doing Atom knows what behind closed doors." Nasty was already on the wind up of a punch, but it was clear from her poor posture and the tears welling in her eyes she was cracking fast, leaving Field looking like the cat that got the cream. "It's why you're out here in the first place. But you're not happy, just high."  
    She let go of Field, shoving her off at the same time and curling within herself. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"  
    "You're so afraid of love." She sounded like she genuinely pitied Nasty. "I'm not here to hurt you. John, Piper, even most of Sanctuary in a way, they try to show you their love by letting you do what you want, despite their objections. They think it will help you find your happiness, they don't want to rob you of that. They love you by accommodating to your nature, by not asking you about your old life." Field leaned over Nasty, not dissimilar to how Nasty had knelt over her but moments before. She smelled of pine sap and overripe mutfruit. "But, Samantha, I know you can't be happy the way you're going."  
    "Is this some fucked in the head sort of way to confess your love for me?"   
     "Everyone loves you, Sam. You're the key to the Commonwealth's future, so they love you as they love the idea of the Commonwealth not falling into a state like that of the Capital. It is not their choice, nor is it yours, and they all love you, but not in the way you imagined love to be." She dragged her fingers down Nasty's tanned face, thumb tracing the scar that ran down from her temple to her jaw. "Not in the way you seem to need it, either."   
"I don't love you." It was meant to sound biting but the words fell flat on her tongue.  
    "Can you love anyone that loves you back anymore?" Her hand dipped to Nasty's shirt and unbuttoned it just below her bust. Field's fingers felt frigid as they brushed against her taut muscles and found their place at her waist. There was something almost relaxing about it, like holding close a cold can of soda on a hot day. Nasty searched for some sort of malice in her eyes, wondered if this was supposed to be a mean spirited joke, but Field was a stone faced as ever; hands steady and exact in their work. Her breath hitched when Field's hand went to cup her breast over her cotton bra and brushed her thumb over her nipple through the soft, white fabric.  
    Then, almost without warning, Nasty slapped her.  
    "Don't you fucking touch me." She said it low and through gritted teeth.  
    Field recoiled immediately, red prickling beneath her skin as if she had been slapped into normalcy. The hot wind rolled off the river bank and sent low rustles through the forest behind them. "I'm sorry." she said after a moment. "I didn't-" She cut herself off before standing up and picking up as many mutfruit as she could carry at once. She stopped for a moment to let out one more "I'm sorry." before leaving Nasty alone to ruminate on what had just transpired.  
Neither of them came back to the woods the next day.     


End file.
